


Not So Smug Now Are You?

by Propernicethat



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Anal Play, Bondage, Dehumanization, Dentistry, Dildos, Dom/sub, Double Anal Penetration, Forced blowjobs, Genital Torture, Humiliation, Hurt/Comfort, Jarate, Knifeplay, M/M, Medical Examination, Medical Kink, Mouth torture, Mutilation, Oral Mutilation, ProperNiceThatsFeralRedSniper, Rape, Rimming, Scout Abuse, Sounding, Stabbing, Taking advantage of sick people, Throat Fucking, Urine, Verbal Abuse, Verbal Humiliation, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-06
Packaged: 2018-03-04 19:41:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3086099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Propernicethat/pseuds/Propernicethat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Red Scout is captured after the battle and tortured by the cocky Blue Spy, the boy escapes and goes to the person who knows his former captor better than anyone else in order to seek revenge. </p><p>As with all my fics, please check the tags carefully before proceeding, you've been warned!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prey

**Author's Note:**

> This is a request for a lovely Steam user! Hope you like and let me know if you want to see anything else added into the fray!

Why did he even have dildos? Oh yeah, that's right, he's a big fucking faggot, that's why.

The Red Scout was tied to a heavy steel chair. His neck held down to the top rail with rope, his wrists tied behind his back and his thighs spread wide either sides of the seat, cowboy style. His ankles had been bound to the front legs, and despite struggling and squirming, he wasn't able to move. 

"I know you're here, frog, show yourself!"

He shouted, trying to rock the seat, forcing himself from side to side, but it was like the steel feet were nailed to the floor, the heavy thing wouldn't budge. 

"Mon chaton, so loud this early in the morning."

The man hadn't been hiding at all, he'd been sat at his desk. The previous day had been amusing to the Frenchman, it wasn't often he took prisoners but the boy had been annoying, had sent him to respawn. He didn't go to respawn, not usually, if the boy was so lucky perhaps he'd make a good luck charm? So the Spy had disguised himself as a Medic and knocked the Scout out instead of stabbing him. Then, he'd carried him off the battlefield and back to his little make shift smoking room on the Blu base. Nobody was allowed here, it was part of his arrangement with the Administrator. He wanted his own personal space to retire to whenever he felt the need to relax and smoke without being disturbed. He had his own set of keys and freedom to keep whatever furniture he wanted, which was why the bookshelf at the top held a row of buttplugs, ascending in size. They'd been a joke present from an old friend from his past, he'd been completely humiliated by it, but still he boxed the gifts up and had stored them here safety. His collection hadn't ended there though, more toys of the same nature were hidden away, back when he preferred his own company. He still did, of course, but he also had many able and willing bodies at Blu, the Medic mostly, nothing beat a real cock. 

"Shut your mouth and let me go!"

The Scout shouted, rocking his form in the chair frantically, his wrists aching, his back arched and his neck sore from the position. He knew full well he was naked, but he wasn't gonna' let this pussy know that it unnerved him, he wasn't going to give into some kind of scare tactic. That was, until he felt something cold and wet against his exposed anus. 

"Hey..wait, no! Get away from there you faggot!"

The rowdy boy shouted, immediately squirming and trying to push himself away, but the position he was in, he was forced to present himself to the large globs of lube that the Spy began applying. He was spreading it on thick, the boy's asshole tingling uncomfortably, but little did he know, that the real discomfort was about to begin. 

The Spy pressed a thin black dildo to the boy's now slick and ready hole. The Scout hitched a breath and scrunched his face up as the man slowly slipped the toy into him, making sure it was pushed in nice and tightly. He flicked the switch, the toy immediately buzzing to life, which caused the exposed boy to gasp before shouting obscenities, his cheeks flushed as he shook his head.

"Take it out man! This is fucked up!"

He pleaded, squirming and trying to expel the toy, but the Spy held his finger to the butt of the buzzing device, making sure it stayed in, before beginning to slide it in and out. The Scout closed his eyes tightly in humiliation, especially when his cock had sprung to life between his thighs, of course the Spy didn't fail to see this. 

"You're enjoying this? Now whose the faggot?"

He sneered, bringing a hand between the boy's spread thighs and yanking his cock backwards between them, rubbing the length in his lubricated gloved fingers. It felt good, it felt really goddamn good and the Scout didn't know what to do or say... that was until he felt the next intrusion against his virgin anus. Another dildo of the same size was slicked up with the lubricant before the head of it beginning to rub against the boy's already occupied hole. The Frenchman pulled the current dildo to the side, stretching the boy's hole as he wiggled the second one in, forcing the two in side by side and pushing them into the boy. The Scout screamed immediately, thrashing in his binds as those two toys stretched him open, both buzzing away inside him. He trembled, closing his eyes tightly as he felt the Spies hot breath against his cock, for a moment the boy thought the man was going to suck his cock and the thought of it caused his heart to skip a beat. Instead though the man attached a wooden cloths peg onto the side of the boy's hanging balls, he jolted with a whimpered cry, squirming as the Spy continued to apply those pegs one by one, covering his ballsack in them, pinching the skin between his fingers. 

"Stop...Stop this..this is fucked up man."

The Spy raised his form, stepping back to admire his handiwork, the boy was trying desperately to expel the toys inside him, but struggled miserably, he panted, squirming against his restraints when he felt the Spies finger rub the outer rim of his anus. Tears ran down his cheeks in humiliation before shouting out when he felt a third toy being forced into him. This one however was slightly spiked all over, hundreds of nobbly little thorns covered the entire length and as soon as the Spy began to insert it, the boy squealed out hysterically. He felt the tiny thorns rip into the skin of his outer rim, a hot, red raw stinging sensation took over, followed by a burning as his asshole was forcefully stretched to it's limits. A guttural sound escaped the frantic boy who thought his ordeal might be close to over. 

His train of thoughts was rudely interrupted by the Spies knife. He was slowly rubbing the blade up and down the boy's exposed feet, his toes curling as he choked back a sob. The man continued to run the blade up his leg, turning it to the junction between his thighs and sliding the blunt end up along the length of his now very red balls. The Scout shook his head, desperately pleading with the man, who jabbed the sharp edge of the thin blade into the boy's piss slit, he immediately screamed, feeling the Frenchman grip his cock tightly between his gloved fingers, holding the boy's cock still as he continued to push the blade in more and more. The boy was hysterical by this point, his entire frame convulsing at the hands of the Spy, who slipped the knife out, followed by a stream of piss and blood from the boy, who could only sob in humiliation as he soiled down between his thighs and all over the floor. The Spy only chuckled, amused as he brought a hand to the Scout's chin, raising his head to look up at him. He held the blade to the boy's lips, who trembled in fear as he continued to look up at the Frenchman. 

"Best make sure you use your tongue on the blunt edge."

The Spy warned as he pushed the blade to the boy's mouth, who parted his lips and began to lick the length of the Spies knife, very carefully cleaning it of blood and piss. He coughed, trying to turn his head away until he felt the Frenchman's fingers grip his cheeks.

"Open wide, tongue out."  
.  
The Scout did as he was told, not really in any position to disobey the Spy, his mouth opening and his tongue sliding out obediently. The Frenchman pressed the blade flat against the boy's tongue, before sliding it out and running it along the surface of the boy's lips.

"Give it a kiss, mon chaton."

The Scout closed his eyes tightly as he gently kissed the blade. 

"Keep kissing."

He whispered, lowering his form so he was at the boy's level, he took the boy's cheek in his hand, tilting it to the side as the boy continued to obediently kiss the knife all over, too terrified to disobey the Frenchman when he had such a sharp weapon at such a close proximity to his face. The Spy gently took the boy's bottom lip, pulling it away from his face and pinching it between his fingers, the Scout immediately hitched a breath feeling the blade suddenly slice into his flesh. It was sharp, so sharp that the Frenchman barely had to carve the skin of his lip open, watching it split down the middle to his chin. The Scout screamed out, drool and blood flying as he began to shake his head, tried to pull himself from the Frenchman's grasp. Blood poured from the huge open gap, the Frenchman used his fingers to pry the two flaps apart, to expose the boy's lower teeth and gums. He used the knife to cut away the skin, removing the flaps as if they were chicken giblets, wiggling and bleeding in his gloved fingers. The Scout was hyperventilating, his body a sweating mess of fear and pain. His stretched open asshole a constant reminder, those pinching clothes pegs causing his balls to throb to the point where he couldn't feel them anymore, and now his mouth, mutilated and bleeding the flesh still hanging off crudely from the poor incision. The Scout's tongue slipped out, to feel the red raw, stinging flesh, which was already beginning to swell as it bled down his chin and neck.

"Thank me."

The Spy spoke, looking down at the boy with the missing bottom lip, who sobbed softly, resting his cheek against the Frenchman's hand as he held his head.

"Thank me, or I'll cut off the other lip, boy."

He snapped, lowering his head and bringing his face close to his, the Scout drooled a mixture of saliva, blood and mucus before softly managing a pathetic.

"Thank you."

His body drooping against the chair, exhausted from the short ordeal. 

"Who is the best Spy? ..Non, who is the best mercenary?"

Tears filled the Scouts eyes as the pain and humiliation remained, his voice cracking as he swallowed his pride.

"...You are. The Blu Spy is.."

He managed, closing his eyes and squirming in the restraints.

"..Please...take them out of me, I..I'll not attack you again, I'll keep away from you, please..just let me go."

He pleaded, spitting blood as he spoke, his words slurred and awkward, his eyes wide as the Spy slowly raised himself to a full stand, turning his nose up when he saw the patch of blood on his suit. 

"You're going to remain there, and those dildos will be a constant reminder of what a little bitch you are. You belong to me, you're my plaything to do whatever I please. Do you understand?"

The Scout turned his head away, his form shaking, refusing to look at the Frenchman. Then, he screamed out loudly as the Frenchman proceeded to slam the blade down into his upper back, causing him to spasm frantically as the Spy twisted the blade, lifting his hand and leaving it in there. It took a moment for blood to begin to escape the wound and the boy could feel it pour down his back in a steady stream.

"Do you understand, boy?"

"....I..I understand."

He whispered before loosing conciousness.


	2. Medicine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was meant to be the hurt/comfort chapter but it turned into rape, I doubt any of you are surprised.
> 
> Also contains a sassy Spy.

The Scout awoke in the middle of the night. 

His shoulders trembled and the burning sensation between them had turned to a dull, uncomfortable ache. The blood was dry and crusted against his skin until he began to squirm in his restraints, reopening the wound as he began to wiggle his wrists desperately. The Spy was nowhere to be seen, no doubt doing something dubious elsewhere, the boy took it upon himself to begin his escape plan. He kept wiggling and squirming, his wrists sore, the skin broken from the thick rope. The rope was thick, but it wasn't entirely tight and the trickles of blood between his bound wrists only added as lubricant as he began to squirm them with vigour. After twenty minutes or so of squirming, grunting and wiggling, he managed to pull one of his wrists free, followed by the other, the next step was getting the knife out of his back. He thanked the stars for his gangly long arms, reaching behind himself, gripping the handle and gasping out as he ripped it out, a small fountain of blood followed almost comically. Using the knife now, he cut the rope from his throat, then twisted his form around awkwardly in order to reach his ankles. Fucking Spy, seriously. He was annoyed, if he wasn't feeling so goddamn weak he'd find that smug bastard and make him pay. Of course, the dildos came out next, the lubricant had gone tacky and soft, sticking between his thighs as he moved, pulling the spiked one first with a suppressed cry, hand held tightly over his mouth. The other two came out after and he dropped them to the floor, kicking them away, good riddance. The pegs came off carefully afterwards, his balls a dark purple as a result.

Limping some, due to his ankles being numb and pins and needles beginning to occur at the base of his feet he looked around for his clothes, nowhere to be seen. No doubt the spook had chucked his stuff on the roaring fire, which had long gone out. Hanging on the back of the chair was a waist length double breasted coat, it would have to do and the dense fabric would soak up any blood. Slipping it over his shoulders, he moved to the door, turning the knob.... Locked. Of course it fucking was.

Next plan of action was locating a window, slinking over to the bathroom where he'd felt a draft on his bare ass previous hours ago, he opened the ajar door fully, spotting a small half open window. He knew he was going to struggle getting though it, removing the coat and throwing it out first, he hopped up onto the sink, gripping onto the window edge and wobbling precariously. It was then that he heard a key in the door and the door handle rattling in the other room. His heart began to pound, almost slipping on the sink as he gripped onto the window, bending his knees against the wall and vaulting his form though the small gap. His upper body squirmed though, his shoulder getting stuck, he heard the Spy swear, frantic footsteps moving around the room. Just as his legs went though did the Spy open the bathroom door wide, looking in and greeted with nothing but a soft breeze from outside. The Scout sat on the floor, his back pressed tightly against the wall, holding his breath as the Spy looked out the window, the boy inches out of his view. 

The boy waited a few moments before lifting the coat up, which had broken his fall, pulling it over his form and looking to the gate. Luckily the Blu Base was an exact replica of his own, so he moved to the side gates, checked for sentries before kicking his legs into gear and running as fast as he could back to the base. And boy could he run!

XXX

When he arrived back at the base, he was exhausted, covered in sweat and suffering badly with blood loss he practically fainted at the front doors. It was the Engineer who'd caught him when he'd fallen, the Texan outside keeping an eye on his sentries and had been strumming a few notes on his guitar when he'd seen the boy in the blue coat come towards him. His sentries luckily knew the enemy when it saw them and hadn't opened fire despite the blue jacket he wore, luckily for him. The Texan held the boy carefully to his chest, who was shifting in and out of conciousness. He'd immediately gotten him to the Medbay, where luckily the good Doctor was awake bright and early, tending to his doves. The Engineer didn't waste time with formalities, barging the door open as he held the limp boy against his chest. 

"Doc!"

He called out, the man immediately lowering the bag of seed and rushing over to take the boy from his arms. Despite how thick the coat was, the dark patch of blood was seeping though. He immediately removed the coat, laying the boy down on his belly onto his table, lining up the medigun. The Engineer left, knowing he'd be of no use any longer, he went to alert the others. The German looked down, seeing the blood between his thighs and bringing a gloved hand to part the Scout's buttocks, seeing the damage down there. He frowned, slowly pushing his finger in for a feel, which caused the boy to jolt, shaking his head as sweat trickled down his back. This reaction made the Doctor's cock twitch.

"Ssh..don't be such a baby."

The Medic whispered, continuing to probe the boy who squirmed and shook his head, curling his cheek to the cold metal of the table. The Doctor took his inner thigh, spreading it wider, the boy's bleeding hole quivering as it was exposed. 

"What a number he's done on you, boy."

Slowly the Medic looked to the door, checking nobody was going to burst though it before keeping the boy's buttocks parted and lowering himself into a crouch, he slowly licked the surface of the Scout's quivering hole, before forcing his tongue inside, wiggling the end as the flavour hit his taste buds. The Scout was too weak and disorientated to do a thing, writhing and shaking his head, his hands barely hanging onto the table as he remained on his belly, completely at the good Doctor's mercy. The Scout chattered his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut as tears trickled down his cheeks, gasping when the German removed his tongue, licking the surface once more before rising into a stand. He flipped the boy onto his back, who writhed and tucked his head in weakly, dizzy and a little confused, disorientated from the blood loss, the Medic took full advantage of the sick boy. He went to his cabinet, removing a thin piece of extremely smooth metal from it's packaging, to the untrained eye it looked like a metal knitting needle. He approached the boy who lay on his back, eyes squeezed tight from dizziness as the Doctor took hold of his damaged cock. 

"Looks like something sharp...must have been dreadful for you."

The Medic cooed, lining up the Sounding device with the boy's urethra. He'd hold it close between his gloved fingers to the base of the boy's cock, slowly beginning to insert it into the blood crusted piss slit. The Scout's back arched and he immediately whined, trying to scream but no noise escaped his throat other than those tiny, desperate pleas. 

"..Need to check no blood clotted or shards of metal went in, boy..all procedure of course."

The Doctor cooed, inserting the device further and further into the trembling mess, while he did so, he proceeded to push his finger back into the boy's hole, he kicked a leg out weakly and shook his head from side to side.

"Good boy..sehr gut, just like that."

He whispered encouragingly, whose toes curled and his head pounded so hard he could barely hear the man. When the Sound was halfway in the Medic let go, letting it remain in the boy's tortured cock as he continued to finger his sore hole. He inserted a second finger, curling the pair upwards and beginning to milk the boy's prostate who gasped and began to bash his head against the table, unable to beg the man to stop. When the Doctor was satisfied he removed his fingers and unzipped his fly. The Scout heard it and immediately began to sob, his face red, eyes puffy and trails of snot pouring from his nostrils as he tried to protest, feeling the Medic line his cock up against his abused hole and forcing his arousal in. The German leaned forward, pressing a hand to the Scout's stomach as he began to pound him, he didn't have to pin him hard, the boy was so weak and exhausted, the Medic's favourite kind of patient. He fucked the injured boy relentlessly, stopping to slow down in order to slide the Sounding device out, only to push it back in, making sure it was nice and secure. Bile bubbled in the boy's throat as he tried to scream, his throat tight and his body hot and heavy, he couldn't do a thing but allow himself to get repeatedly pummelled by the Medic.

Eventually the German came, squirting the boy's insides with his seed before pulling his flaccid cock out, without any care he proceeded to remove the Sounding device too, quickly, a tiny fountain of piss following, trickling down the boy's thighs onto the table. 

"...Absolutely disgusting, what a dirty boy."

The Medic turned his nose up, amused as the Scout weakly lifted his hands up to cover his face, sobbing into them. He continued to sob even when the Medic lined up the beam of his Medigun, the heat filled the boy with comfort, his entire body melting against the table as his wounds began to heal. By the time the gun was done, he was fast asleep and the Medic carried him to a patient bed, setting him into it, zipping up his fly and continuing on with the business of the day.

XXX

The Scout woke up to the last thing he wanted to see. The Medic grinning down at him. He immediately pushed himself to the head of the bed, bending his knees and pulling the paper sheet up defensively as the good Doctor leaned in, gripping him immediately by his hair and yanking his head close enough so he could whisper into his ear.

"This morning was our little secret, if you tell anyone, I'll make sure your performance reports go very...very downhill."

He chuckled, adding.

"Mama would be so..disappointed."

The Scout swallowed, eyes narrowing as the man let him go. He pulled himself into a stand, feeling as good as new. Moving to the door and turning to give the Doc a middle finger before stepping out, completely naked. The Medic just grinned contentedly before going back to his work. 

The Scout luckily made it to his room without humiliation, quickly dressing himself before sitting on his bed and musing to himself about the night before. He spent the rest of the day moping around, thinking hard about how he was going to extract revenge on the man. The Announcer had declared that they had a week off now, so he couldn't even find the guy on the battlefield and pummel him to death. He couldn't exactly just walk on their base either, that'd be suicide. After a long train of thought it finally occurred to him, who knew a Spy? Who knew how a back stabbing scumbag thought? ...Another back stabbing scumbag, that's what.

XXX

He found himself knocking at the Red Spies smoking room door.

"Go away."

Came the French accent laced voice, but the boy opened the door up anyway, moving inside and looking around the dimly lit room, shutters over the windows. 

"I have a headache, go away, boy."

He waved the Scout off dismissively, turning his nose up and looking away from him, frowning in displeasure at the mere sight of the lad.

"Need a favour."

"We need a lot of things in life, Scout. We need a payrise, I need a holiday, you need to go away."

He waved his cigarette as he spoke before planting it to his lips, taking a long drag and turning in his seat. 

"...Why are you still here?"

"..Um, yeah, I do really need a favour, you see..the Blu Spy, the Blu you..yeah, he got me real bad, is why I wasn't at the ba-.."

"Then I must thank him, the base has been so peaceful during your absence."

"..Spy, fella. I really need this favour."

The Frenchman sighed, shaking his head, turning in his chair and settling his elbows onto the surface of his desk like some kind of Crime Lord. He remained silent, giving the boy the most agitated look he could muster as he bridged his hands, resting his chin on the surface.

"...I wanna' get my own back, on the Blu Spy. I wanna' make sure he suffers like I did, I wanna' make sure he really regrets, and that he knows that I'm behind it. I wanna' see him suffer for humilating me, a-.."

"You humiliate yourself just by talking boy."

"SHUT up, let me finish. I can't get him on the battlefield, I want it to be a lengthy process, I want him to be scared, humiliated. You gotta help me."

The Spy rolled his eyes, ash falling and expertly landing in the provided ash tray. 

"Non, it's a stupid ide-.."

"My mom."

"..."

"I wont complain. I wont get upset. I wont stop you. I'll tell her you're good...an' like..I'll set up a date."

"Deal."

Well, that went easier than expected. The Spy raised a hand, eyes narrowing.

"Now go away."

He shooed the boy off with a dismissive hand, turning in his seat once more to be with his own thoughts. And now that extreme torture and humiliation was in them, there was only one man on his mind right now.

The Red Sniper.


	3. Predator

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Extreme scenes of oral mutilation here, proceed with caution.

“Do you know what a male porcupine does when it finds a female it likes the look of?”

The Blu Spy, his throat chained tightly up against back railing of the Sniper’s camper van, looked up at his captor. He had been stripped of his clothing in the brutal ice-cold winter weather, trembling as the breeze hit his frame. His wrists tightly tied behind his back and his ankles bound with rope, looped to more bindings on his upper thighs tightly, forcing him on his knees at all times. His stomach was cramping from the forced position, thighs nice and wide and his throat dry and raspy, his neck forced upwards as his cheek pressed to the cold steel door behind him. He had to breath with his mouth wide open, which was evidently the Australian’s plan because he’d unzipped his pants and was aiming his cock at the bound Frenchman, proceeding to piss all over him, edging closer to soak the man’s face, who cringed and closed his eyes tightly. There was nobody around to be seen, the Spy had been out cold for a long time, as he took in his surroundings he was sure they weren’t even near the Red base. In the corner of his eye he could see a flickering campfire, littered with coals. 

The Spy thought back about how he’d gotten himself in this predicament, he’d had a message from the Red Spy, stating that the Red Scout had come back to the base and that the team no longer wanted him as they‘d found a replacement already. He said he’d bring the boy back to the Blu Base in exchange for a small piece of information. The info wasn’t anything spectacular and the Blu Spy was interested in getting the boy back, to seriously teach him a lesson about manners. The Blu Spy had also stated that he wanted a replacement coat, which had been stolen from him and the Red had been happy to oblige.

It all seemed extremely good to be true and the Blu Spy was immediately on his guard, but the time came and waiting in the exact meeting place they’d arranged was the Red Spy, and in front of him was a bound and gagged Scout. The look of fear on the boy’s face when he decloaked before the two of them had been exhilarating for the Spy, already planning exactly what he was going to do to the little shit.

“Where is my coat?”

The Blu Spy snapped, frowning as he took a long drag of his cigarette, smoke filtering from his nostrils. Immediately the Scout pulled out a pistol from behind his back, the rope around his wrists that’d been concealing it fell to the floor, he shot the Spy in the leg, who fell, the Red counterpart swiftly kicking him in the face.

“Stay down.”

“Yeah! Stay down you backstabbing piece of shit!”

The boy shouted, the gag falling from his mouth. 

“Shut up, you’re too loud boy.”

The Red Spy groaned, snatching up the rope from the floor and beginning to bind his Blu Counterpart

“What now chucklenuts?”

“Now? We make him wish he’d never been born.”

XXX

The Spy had been though countless training programs in order to prepare himself for any torture or interrogation that would come his way. So much so that he knew exactly what to expect and in most scenarios he’d predicted exactly what techniques the interrogator was going to attempt next or what psychological methods they were going to try. But now he sat there, chained up and covered in piss and for the life of him he couldn’t predict what the Bushman was to do next. The man was exactly how he imagined, but the stench was considerably worse. He was as wild as they came, his hair scruffy on the top of his head, eyes that same ruby red they’d always been described to him as. The man clearly didn’t know how to look after himself, his personal hygiene was especially bad, there were so many bad smells the Spy could only pin point one of them and that was piss. When he gripped the Frenchman by the chin, the Spy could only stare down at the grimy, blunt finger nails digging into his flesh, his lips parted as he narrowed his eyes. 

“Do your worst you filthy animal.”

He tried to sound fearless, to not show any emotion, which had always worked for him in the past. The Sniper leaned in without any warning, his lanky frame faster than he looked, considering he was all legs. He gripped the chain at the back of the Spies neck, yanking it tightly against the van. The Spy choked, his mouth opening as he rasped, his legs trying to instinctively kick as he glared up at the grinning Bushman. The Sniper slipped his tongue into the man’s open mouth, drooling heavy globs of saliva against his tongue and down his throat. He licked and sucked at the Spies tongue, who, when he tried to close his mouth only began to choke and ended up opening his mouth wide to gasp for breath. He’d been hesitating in breathing though his nostrils due to the smell of the Australian who was so close their bodies were touching, this only reminded the Spy that only that thin black wife beater separated their skin from touching. Eventually the Bushman pulled away, letting go of the chain and squatting down in front of him, there was silence save for the Spies panting, as the Australian gave the Frenchman a good, long, hard, stare. 

The Spy stared back, narrowing his eyes, he would not be broken and intimidated so easily. Then the Sniper aimed a fist at the Frenchman’s gut and he flinched, closing his eyes as he wrinkled his nose up.

“A child has hit me harder.”

The Spy remarked, groaning when the Sniper thumped him again. He cringed, coughing as he fell forward, the chain around his neck pulling though a loop, which only made it tighter the more he struggled. He began to cough, spluttering as his eyes bulged, retching as another punch came swooping in, followed by another. The Sniper only stopped to slap the Frenchman’s face, gripping his cheeks and forcing him to look up at his face. 

“Covered in my piss and on your knees like a good fucking whore.”

He growled, his voice gravelled, laced with excitement at the prospect of his new victim. He stopped punching, his hand, fingers spread stroked down the Spies’ face, who flinched with reaction, lowering his gaze as he sighed, easing himself by breathing carefully though the pain of his now throbbing stomach. 

“Say…Frog, I once saw the Red you remove his teeth, he proper unscrewed them.”

As he spoke he opened his mouth, imitating a screw motion against one of his exposed yellow teeth. 

“That a feature that comes with every Spook?”

He questioned, watching the Spies face twist, he revelled in the man’s desperate attempt to suppress the tension and fear on his features. It just made him laugh, fist clenched he punched the Van’s backdoor, inches from the Spies head, his face screwing up and with little to no warning he went from calm to violent in seconds.

“Well? You gonna’ fucking answer me?”

He shouted, the Spy closed his eyes tightly and turned his head away, sweat trickling down his face despite the freezing cold weather around them. 

“Yes..it does.”

A few moments later the Spy eventually replied, and with it, a lie. Perhaps if the Sniper thought he had artificial teeth he’d loose interest in the subject, he knew about the “Bushman’s rules” afterall. 

“..There is no point, in taking fal-.”

“Gonna’ make a necklace outta’ ya’ teeth anyway, Bushman’s rules. Real or not!”

Great. The Spies face fell and he began to shake his head when the man inches closer, dirty fingers gripping the Frenchman’s nostrils, pinching them close together. The Spy immediately held his breath, pressing his lips shut and closing his eyes, beginning to count in his head, to distract himself, to think of anything else but breathing right now. It didn’t last long and the Sniper was a patient predator, waiting for the Spy to gasp, his hand immediately moving into his mouth, which he took advantage of, biting down on the dirty, grim coated fingers. The Sniper produced a soft, guttural sound and it was difficult to tell if it was pain or pleasure. Those red eyes of his shifted, the left half lidded as he stared down at the spy in silence, the man remained with his teeth imbedded into the Australian’s flesh, whose fingers suddenly uncurled, long and gnarled, the Bushman pinched the Spies tonsils just as he heaved. A harsh, sudden tickle hit the back of the Frenchman’s throat and he retched noisily, the Sniper continued to force his fingers to the back of the Spies throat, whose eyes filled with tears as he squirmed in his binds, vomit immediately coming up as the Australian finally removed his fingers, watching as the Spy purged against himself, coughing and choking back an angry sob.

“What was that..what was that for?”

He managed, drool trickling down his chin. The Australian lifted his form up and padded off, disappearing into the van. The Spy began to squirm in his restraints, trying to find something sharp to rub the rope off on, he tried to pull and unbend his knees, but the rope holding the joint bent wouldn’t budge, the Bushman was good with his knots. He heard footsteps and swallowed down a lump in his throat, eyes squeezed shut until those footsteps stopped, feeling a presence looming over him. The Sniper stood there, cup of coffee in one hand and a pair of pliers in the other, and he grinned. 

“My therapist said to collect things that make you smile.”

He crouched in front of the Spy, who shrank back in horror, trembling as a cold breeze hit his vulnerable frame. 

“What froggy? What are you afraid of? It’s just a cup of coffee?”

…

“Oh, THESE.”

He proceeded to snap the pliers open and shut, inches from the man’s face, laughing as the Frenchman’s heart pounded so hard he thought it was going to burst. The Sniper lifted his form once more, walking around the Spy and tipping the boiling hot coffee down onto his head, the Frenchman held back a scream, his form yanking forward instinctively to get away from the burning heat that attacked his flesh, but the chain around his throat only tightened, causing him to choke himself. The Sniper’s laughter could be heard in the distance, as he disappeared back into the van, he was truly taking his time, one of the only interrogation methods so far that the Spy had been familiar of. The Sniper eventually returned, setting down something to the side of the Spy before appearing in front of him once more. 

“Now, how about them teeth then, mate?”

“Fuck you.”  
“…Now, how ‘bout that tongue aswell then, too.”

The Sniper corrected himself, a hand flew at the Spies face, forcing his fingers between the man’s clenched teeth with no mercy, his other hand on the pliers which he opened up and positioned at the Frenchman’s mouth. He went for a front tooth first, closing the pliers around it, serrated edges weakening the enamel, waiting for the crack as the dentin was smashed between the steel pincers. Only the top snapped away, the Sniper braced the muscles in his arm, yanking the tooth aggressively, ripping the crown from root, exposing the separated nerves and blood vessels from the root end opening. He inspected the tooth, displeased with the hairline fracture. 

“You can call me the goddamn tooth fai-…This is a real tooth mate.”

He set the tooth down on to the side after inspecting it carefully, glancing between said mentioned tooth and the Spies hanging open mouth, which was now bleeding. This was the very first of twenty nine [ He was missing two. ], and he wouldn’t stop until they were all out. The Spy screamed hysterically though each pull, never before had he cried so hard, spurred on by a cocktail of fear and agony. Each rip rattled his entire skull, blood flew in tiny wisps and all he could do was sit there and scream. With each removal the Sniper improved his pluck, the first tooth had smashed, as had the second, but the more he got the hang of it the sooner he was pulling the teeth fresh, twisting and snapping the root before yanking it out. He was practically a qualified dentist now!

Soon, the Sniper removed his hand from the Spies bloody, hanging open mouth. Thick clots of dark blood oozed from over his lips, he closed his eyes, panting heavily, coughing as he inhaled a sickly clump of blood and mangled gum down the back of his throat. He opened one eye, to watch the Sniper, who was lining the teeth up in a row, evidently planning his necklace. 

“You know..this does need a centrepiece…Is lucky that I promised to take your tongue too isn’t it, Froggy?”

The Spy looked at him, his bloodshot eyes staring wide as he shook his head rapidly, the motion only making himself dizzy, trying to plead but no words escaping his aching, stinging mouth. The Sniper approached, running a hand up though the man’s salt and pepper hair, gripping the back of it and yanking his head up. 

“..Best make use of that tongue first, boy.”

He grunted, pushing his cock into the Spies mouth, blood immediately covered the Bushman’s length as he slipped the head right down into the Spies throat, who just leaned back against the van and took it. The Sniper stroked his cheek. 

“Look up at me while I fuck your mouth, cunt.”

He groaned, those frightened wide eyes looking up at his captor as the man lowered himself, one hand holding onto the van, thighs spread either sides of the Frenchman’s head as the Australian began to buck his hips. The Spy had no choice, he sat there, feeling that filthy cock ram his throat over and over, when the length brushed his exposed gums he could only scream in pain, whimpering and sobbing as fat wet tears poured down his rosey red cheeks. The noises only aided in the Sniper’s arousal, who began to fuck the Frenchman’s throat harder, repeatedly slamming his cock into him, his balls brushing the Spies lower lip, smacking him with each thrust. Then he stopped, slamming his entire cock in before spilling his load with a shout, knocking his head back and almost stumbling forward into the Spy as he doubled over in pleasure. Nothing felt better than a bloody, toothless mouth around his cock. He slipped the length out, wiping it on the Spies lips who leaned back defeated, but the Sniper wasn’t done yet. 

He picked up the pliers once more, wiggling them in front of the Spies face. The Frenchman tried to say “no more” but it came out as a strange muffled slurr and jumbled sounds. The Sniper playfully crouched in front of him, bouncing on his bent knees before loosing his balance, falling forward and planting a hand flat against the Van’s door with a loud bag, which startled the Spy to the point where he lost the control of his bladder, pissing all over the floor. 

“..That’s proper filthy that is.”

The Bushman said, smiling gently as he licked the trembling man’s cheek, he had no dignity left, he just wanted to curl up and die. Those fingers came forward once more, prying the weakened Spies mouth open, the man just leaned back, letting him, gearing himself up for what was about to come. He opened the pliers, closing them around the middle of the man’s flailing, blood, cum and mucus covered tongue, securing the serrated ridges down onto the squirming pink muscle. The Spy coughed, cum bubbled up in his throat as he swallowed it down, closing his eyes and sobbing, shoulders rising and falling. 

Once the Sniper had a good grip, clamping them down as far as the pliers would allow him, the Spy made another loud hysterical sound that no longer sounded human. The layers of flesh and muscle began to tear directly from the back of the Spies throat, the roots were beginning to stretch to their fullest before a snapping, no different from breaking an elastic band. His throat began to pull with it, the flesh beneath the tongue beginning to tent up and rip away from the Frenchman’s oral cavity, the man couldn’t even scream, only gargle and spasm all over, head smacking the back of the Van over and over as he frantically tried to escape the excruciating rip as the streams of severed flesh and muscle began to pour out from between his lips like lumpy vomit. The Sniper smiled fondly at the other as he twisted and yanked the pliers, the last of those rubbery roots snapping as he pulled away, dragging with him the tongue, along with strings and lumps of flesh, muscle and segments of his tonsils. 

“Doctor said you can live without your tonsils, you know.”

He stated blandly, lowering the pliers and staring at the Spy, whose eyes were rolling, his mouth an open cave of mangled flesh and blood, pouring down his chin like a red waterfall. He was unconscious and if he didn’t receive medical attention soon, he’d be gone. 

XXX

The Blus had found him at the front gates of their base. They’d thought the worst, thought he was dead, they rushed him to the Med Bay immediately and the Medic tried his hardest to help the man. They knew immediately who was behind the torture, afterall it was easy enough when the victim stank of that sour urine. 

When the Spy eventually awoke, he jolted, his mouth opened and he screamed. He didn’t stop screaming, his entire frame spasming in wild fits as he tried to pull himself out of the bed. The Medic rushed to his side, taking hold of his shoulders, sshing him carefully, stroking his back. The Spy curled his legs in, bringing his hands to his face and beginning to cry. The German had never seen the man in such an emotional state, but judging from the wounds he had to heal, it was no wonder. Even the most toughest, emotionless man could be shattered, the Spy was pure proof.

The Medic spent the rest of the next week at the man’s side, he held his hand gently, kissed his forehead and wrapped his arms around him, the Spy slept against the Medic’s chest, clutching onto him. The ordeal always haunted him in his dreams, he always woke up screaming and grabbing for his gun, only to find the Medic was there, as always, in the med bay, holding him. The German spent a lot of his time sedating the man, who though he was healed, refused to leave the Medbay, frightened and traumatised. 

In his medical journal the Medic wrote his findings of the day, and he ended it with this sentence. 

“No matter how far we’ve come with medicine and no matter how much we heal the broken bones, there is still no cure for a broken mind.”


End file.
